


Oh no they're hot

by grantairrible



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Nonbinary Grantaire, Other, Trans Enjolras
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-03 19:05:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17883551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grantairrible/pseuds/grantairrible
Summary: Enjolras pointed with his vodka cranberry. “Who does karaoke when they can actually sing?”The person onstange wasn’t even looking at the screen, belting their heart out, their dark curls catching the light. Their shirt was open almost to their navel and glitter streaked their torso.In which Enjolras is attracted to Grantaire in a big way, and fails to make his meaning clear.





	Oh no they're hot

**Author's Note:**

> Title is based off the 'oh no he's hot' bit from Spongebob Squarepants but with pronouns changed. It was my working title and I can't be bothered thinking of anything better, so there you go.

“Well, that’s just unfair,” Enjolras muttered into his glass. He was already a little tipsy, but that was a necessary state to be in if he wanted to survive Marius’ bachelor party.

Combeferre looked up, raising an eyebrow. Courfeyrac, in his lap, followed his look. “What’s wrong?”

Enjolras pointed with his vodka cranberry. “Who does karaoke when they can actually sing?”

The person onstange wasn’t even looking at the screen, belting their heart out, their dark curls catching the light. Their shirt was open almost to their navel and glitter streaked their torso.

“Oh!” Courfeyrac said, turning around in Combeferre’s lap. “That’s what’s their face. Friend of Joly and Bossuet, the artsy one? The one they’ve been trying to get to come to meetings forever?”

“That’s Grantaire?” Combeferre asked, then kissed the top of Courfeyrac’s head. “They’re good.” It didn’t take long for the two of them to get reattached at the mouth, and Enjolras emptied his glass.

_Grantaire_. Enjolras stared at them, at the muscles shifting under their skin, at the crooked teeth that were revealed as they sang, at the dark circles that were visible under their eyes from even here. They caught Enjolras watching and sent him a wink.

“I’m getting another drink,” Enjolras muttered, knowing that nobody would hear him, and headed to the bar.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, blondie.” A husky voice came from behind Enjolras.

He whirled around. Stupid attractive talented people. They were even more intriguing up close, a little sweaty, cheeks flushed. “ _You_.”

Grantaire held their hands out, defensive. “What about me?”

“You shouldn’t have been singing,” Enjolras said, narrowing his eyes. He had the feeling he’d meant to say something else, but the vodka was starting to intervene with his thought process. “And…” he gestured to all of them. All of their stunning, sparkly form. “ _Ugh_.”

“Wow,” Grantaire said. “Okay then. I’d say it was nice talking to you, but your face is apparently a lot nicer than your personality. I hope I don’t see you around.”

Enjolras watched them go, confused, then turned to the bar and ordered a shot.

 

* * *

 

Enjolras woke to a pounding head and churning stomach. Marius’ bachelor party had been a mistake. Vodka cranberries, most of all, had been a mistake. He couldn’t remember much of anything past watching an attractive, talented person singing karaoke on stage. He opened his laptop and yes, Marius had already uploaded photos from last night. There were some unfortunate shots of Enjolras, but after sifting through the extensive album - Marius really needed to calm down on the photography front - he finally found a photo of them standing on stage, tossing their head of curls.

_Grantaire_ , the tag read. Enjolras clicked on their profile, feeling a bit stalkery. He made a mental note to ask Bossuet or Joly - two of their listed mutual friends - about them in the future.

 

* * *

 

As it turned out, Enjolras didn’t have to ask about Grantaire. They were sitting in the back of of the room when he arrived at the next meeting of Les Amis de l’ABC. Their eyes flashed as he walked past, and then they looked down to fiddle with the label on their beer bottle, which they continued to do for the entire meeting.

“Hi,” Enjolras tried, approaching them afterwards. His voice felt unsteady. He didn’t know what to say. “You came.”

Grantaire raised their gaze for the first time in an hour to stare sourly at Enjolras. “I did. And I’m really wondering why I bothered.”

Enjolras paused, flustered and taken aback. “I’m sorry?”

“You should be.” Grantaire stood, brushing past him. “Bye.”

Enjolras turned to Joly. “What did I do?”

Joly looked as stunned as Enjolras felt. “I have absolutely no idea. I’ll go after them and find out.”

 

* * *

 

_ Joly: _ Enjolras wtf

 

_ Joly: _ cruel has never been a word I associated with you.

 

_ Enjolras: _ What did I do?

 

_ Joly: _ if you don’t know then I don’t know how to tell you. I thought you were better than this.

 

Enjolras stared at his phone, confused. He’d never actually interacted with Grantaire that night, as far as he could remember.

Enjolras paused.

_As far as he could remember._

What had he done while he was drunk?

He closed the messaging app and rang Joly, who picked up almost immediately.

“Enjolras, I don’t really want to talk to you right now.”

“Wait,” Enjolras pleaded, “I genuinely can’t remember ever speaking to Grantaire. I was pretty drunk at Marius’ bachelor party, if that’s when whatever it is happened. Please, I just want to know what happened.”

“Grantaire seemed to think you found them repulsive to look at,” Joly said. “I really thought you were above conventional beauty standards, and I really didn’t think you’d be so rude about it.”

“Wait,” Enjolras said again, but Joly had already hung up. _Repulsive?_ Grantaire may not have been conventionally beautiful, with their shadowed eyes and crooked nose and teeth, but watching them up on the stage like that… Enjolras had never been so attracted to someone.

“What did I do?” he muttered to himself, wishing he could fill in the blank of that night. It didn’t sound right, any of it, but he had no idea what had actually happened. He’d hurt Grantaire - someone he didn’t know but was attracted to and wanted to impress - that was for sure, but he was at a loss for what he’d said, or how to fix it.

 

* * *

  
Grantaire didn’t come to the next meeting, or the one afterwards.

“You seem a little…” Courfeyrac made a vague gesture. “Interested in them. You haven’t even talked to them properly.”

“Apparently I have,” Enjolras said miserably, hugging a cushion. “Drunk me must be a dick.”

Combeferre sighed. “You seemed to be upset about something that night as well, and you started drinking a lot after I saw you talking to them at the bar. Maybe just… ask them what happened?”

“How? They don’t want to talk to me.”

Combeferre sighed again. “I’ll sort it out. Will you promise to be sensible and talk it out like adults if I get them to agree to meet with you?”

“Yes,” Enjolras mumbled into the pillow.

 

* * *

 

Enjolras showed up at the address Combeferre had texted to him, which turned out to be a tiny cafe. Grantaire was already sitting at one of the tables in the window, clutching a cup of coffee. Enjolras sat opposite them and ordered one for himself. They looked exhausted, and Enjolras wanted to roll them up in a warm blanket and maybe stroke their hair or something, which was probably creepy. He just wanted to make them happy again, fix whatever he’d done. Especially because the first time he’d seen Grantaire was when they were vibrant and full of energy, owning the stage. Now, they curled in on themselves, their hair pulled into a messy bun. Their cheekbones looked sharper with their hair pulled back, harsher.

“You wanted to talk,” Grantaire said. “So talk.”

“Can you tell me what happened that night?” Enjolras asked. “I really can’t remember what I said, and it just doesn’t sound like the kind of thing I would have done.”

Grantaire rolled their eyes. “What, you’re so high and mighty that-”

“No,” Enjolras hurriedly interrupted Grantaire. “I just… I wouldn’t have been disgusted with how you look.”

“I know how I look.” Grantaire snorted. “I’m used to it.”

“That’s the thing, though. This is embarrassing.” Enjolras was glad his skin was dark enough to not show a blush, because he could feel his cheeks warming. “I wouldn’t be so forward usually, but I want to put things right.” He paused.

Grantaire raised an eyebrow.

Enjolras hurried to continue, though he cringed internally with every blunt, revealing word. “I don’t understand how I would have found you repulsive, because I thought - well, _think_ \- that you’re incredibly attractive.”

“You _what?_ ”

“You’re just…” Enjolras gestured to them, unable to put his thoughts into words, and sighed. “I’m usually fairly eloquent but it’s like I don’t even know how to speak around you.”

“ _Shit_.” Grantaire put down their coffee. “I have to go.”

“What? But-” Enjolras wanted to go after them, but he hadn’t paid yet, and he couldn’t leave in good conscience. He went to the register and paid as quickly as possible, but Grantaire had well and truly disappeared by the time he was finished.  


* * *

 

 

“Hey.”

Enjolras looked up. He’d arrived at the meeting early in order to go over some of his notes, and nobody else had arrived yet. Nobody except, now, Grantaire. “Hi. Look, I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be.” Grantaire gave Enjolras an awkward smile, hands shoved in their pockets. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I just- I realise now I misinterpreted some things. I’ve been literally told to my face that I’m hideous before, so you kind of gestured to me at the party and you sounded pissed off. I jumped to conclusions. Plus you said I shouldn’t have been singing.”

“I apparently can’t talk properly when I’m drunk. Or when I'm around you.” Enjolras buried his face in his hands. “It was because you were too good at karaoke. Because I was watching you up on that stage and I was annoyed by how gorgeous and talented you were.”

“You realise that’s pretty unbelievable,” Grantaire said, taking a seat. “Like, have you looked in a mirror?”

Enjolras laughed. “I have had many transphobic assholes take issue with how I look, but thank you. And I like your face, no matter what’s been said to it.”

“I think we should try this all again.” Grantaire smiled. They held out their hand. “Hey, blondie.”

“Hello.” Enjolras was reluctant to pull his hand away. Grantaire’s fingers were long and slender, their palm warm but dry. “I’m Enjolras.”

“Grantaire.” Grantaire’s lips were twitching. They burst out laughing. “I’m sorry, this is weird.”

“It was your idea!”

“I know, and it was a terrible one.” Grantaire’s smile was wide and genuine, and Enjolras wasn’t sure he’d ever seen anything lovelier. “Can we try the coffee thing again, though?”

“I’d like that.” Enjolras couldn’t help his answering smile. “So long as it’s less awkward than this.”

Grantaire rolled their eyes fondly, and stood up as Joly and Bossuet came through the door. “I’ll talk to you later. Go do your thing. Even if it’s ridiculously idealistic and doomed.”

“You’re still here,” Enjolras replied. “You can’t think it’s that bad.”

Grantaire flashed that grin one more time, making Enjolras’ heart pound in his chest. “Maybe I could stand to be a little more hopeful.”

“Who are you and what have you done to Grantaire?” Joly asked, hugging them. “And sorry, Enjolras, we didn’t know-”

Enjolras waved away the apology. “You were being a good friend. Don’t worry about it.”

“I worry about everything, but I suppose can let this go.” Joly grabbed Grantaire and pulled them toward the back of the room. Grantaire was silent throughout the meeting, apart from a couple of disbelieving snorts. Enjolras could barely look away from them and they didn’t move their gaze off him, except to roll their eyes.

 

* * *

 

Grantaire, as Enjolras learned quickly, was an excellent conversation partner. Or, at least, an interesting one. They went off in ridiculous, rambling tangents constantly, but they were entertaining, and they listened to Enjolras intently whenever he spoke.

They were an even better kissing partner.

“Wait,” Enjolras said, pushing them away gently as they kissed him goodbye at his door.

“Sorry, sorry,” Grantaire said, jerking back and almost hitting their head. “Did I-”

“You did nothing wrong,” Enjolras said. He twisted his fingers in their jumper before they could run too far away. “I just have this wedding coming up, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me?”

“I would be delighted,” Grantaire replied. “I think we have a bachelor party to make up for.”

“So long as we don’t outshine Cosette at the reception.”

“I can’t make any promises,” Grantaire said. “I have it on good authority that I’m incredibly attractive, after all.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back, baby! Well, not really. I'm just here to do my thing of posting a random fic I wrote on a whim and then I'll probably disappear for the best part of a year again. I do actually have a couple of multi chapter fics in the works (one of them being the e/r/c space pirate AU I have been working on for So Long) but I'm about to start a masters degree so who knows if/when those will ever see the light of day. As usual, I'm willowveild on tumblr if you want to come talk to me in the meantime.


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